


Hysterical

by Jessi



Category: Supernatural, destiel - Fandom
Genre: Age Difference, All sorts of wacky Victorian sexual mores, Alpha Castiel, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Victorian, Anal Play, Babies, Bottom Dean, But mostly porn, Fluff and Smut, Happy Ending, Human Castiel, Hysteria treatment, Knotting, M/M, Masturbation, Medical Kink, Mpreg, Omega Dean, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Prostate Milking, Rimming, Sex Toys, Squirting, Suffragettes, Switching, Top Castiel, True Mates, Underage but not in the societal context of the story, Wet & Messy, implied bottom!Cas, mentions of Charlie Bradbury/Dorothy Baum, mentions of Jessica Moore/Sam Winchester - Freeform, the birth of planned parenthood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-15
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-01-04 18:07:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 14,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1084077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jessi/pseuds/Jessi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In turn of the 20th century New York, what do you do when your omega son keeps chasing away potential mates, you have no money for a dowry, and no matter how much you admonish the boy he's foul-mouthed and ill-tempered?</p><p>You send him to Dr Castiel Novak, of course. America's foremost expert in the treatment of Hysteria, an Alpha renowned for his level headedness and stoicism even when up close and personal with an omega in the throes of passion.</p><p>How were you supposed to know Dr Novak and your son were True Mates?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Willful and Obstinate

**Author's Note:**

> These fics are written for fans and brokenhearted queers with _needs_ so no you may not teach them in your class. I didn't go to college and neither will my fics. We're keepin' it real.

The dark haired alpha, Michael or Mark or Mitchell or something, Dean hadn’t really bothered to pay attention, was droning on and on about his estate and his job and his maids and Dean couldn’t even bring himself to feign interest. He knew his parents needed him to marry, and that with no money for a dowry the pickings were slim, but Dean was certain he’d rather be sent to work in a brothel than marry such a boor. Even worse, the sandwiches that had been served with tea were long gone, and Dean was already growing hungry again.

Dean shifted in the uncomfortable high backed chair in the drawing room, stretched, groaned, and yawned, eyes closing in exhaustion. When his eyes opened again he caught the other man staring at him, jaw clenched in frustration.

“Am I boring you, omega?”

Dean grimaced and nodded lazily, “Very much so, sir.” There was no way Dean would address this blowhard as though he were his alpha.

The man, Dean was pretty certain his name was Michael, snarled as his face went from pink, to crimson, to violet.

Dean couldn’t help but chuckle, and Michael stood so fast he knocked his chair over, “Why, I never!” he growled.

Dean grinned up at him, “No, I don’t imagine you have.”

As the man moved to strike Dean, “You insolent little breeder-” John and Mary Winchester rushed into the room at the sound of the commotion. John gripped Michael’s raised fist, and began speaking in placating tones as he escorted the younger alpha out.

Dean only heard snippets of his father’s low voice, but it was enough to make guilt curl in his stomach,

“-terribly sorry-”

“-try to tell him-”

“-doing our best-”

Mary interrupted Dean’s eavesdropping, patting the empty spot next to her on the loveseat and reaching her hands out for her eldest son.

Dean sheepishly flopped down on the sofa next to his mother and let her take his hands in hers.

“Baby boy,” she began gently as she always did, though Dean was already seventeen and nearly a man, “why are you always like this?”

Dean withdrew a hand to rub his palm nervously on the thigh of his charcoal grey wool trousers, and then words blurted from his mouth without his consent, “They’re all just so awful mother, I swear to God, you and father somehow find the least interesting sons of bitches in all of New York to parade me around in front of like a broodmare.”

“Dean!” Mary gasped, and lightly thwacked her oldest on the back of the head, “Where do you learn such foul language?!”

“From the girls down by the docks.” Dean replied with a cheeky shrug.

At Dean’s response John walked into the room, then immediately turned back around to leave, too angry to trust himself to deal with his son, “I’m going to the pub.” He stated gruffly, and seconds later the front door gave a resounding thud as it slammed behind him.

Mary sighed, “Dean, you’ve sent three potential mates running just this week. Are you telling me none of them were suitable?”

“Yes.” Dean huffed, indignant.

“Really?” Mary pressed.

“Crowley had bug eyes, Garth spit when he spoke, and Michael was insufferable all around.”

“Sweetheart...” Mary trailed off.

Dean sighed, “I just want what you and father have, is that so wrong?”

Mary carded her finger’s through her eldest’s hair and pressed a kiss to his temple, “No, it isn’t, but baby boy, your father and I have struggled so much, we just want more for you.”

“I don’t mind struggles.” Dean puffed out his chest, trying to look bigger and manlier despite his designation.

“I know, sweet boy, you’re the strongest omega I’ve ever met, but there’s Sam to consider as well.”

Dean couldn’t argue with that, he loved his younger brother, and knew that as an alpha Sam needed a fine education, one that would soon make it so their parents would be unable to care for Dean as well. Still, it didn’t mean Dean needed to marry the first jackass who walked through the door. At least not quite yet.

 

                                                                                    *************

John fell down into the first open stool at Harvelle’s Public House, and signaled to the barmaid to bring him a pint.

Ellen Harvelle, the pub’s owner, and an old friend of the Winchester’s slid the draft in front of John and with pitying eyes asked, “Long day”

John groaned and nodded. “It’s Dean, chased away another suitor. I swear nobody is ever going to marry that boy!”

Ellen shook her head in sympathy, and John continued, “I just,” and his voice broke, “if we don’t find someone soon, Mary and I are going to have to send him to a brothel or a workhouse, and I never wanted that for Dean.”

“What happened this time?” Ellen asked as she dried glassware with an old rag.

“The same as every time, he was rude, and disrespectful. I had to stop Michael Garrison from taking a swing at him on his way out.”

John buried his face in his palms, “I just don’t know what to do with the child, he’s rude to suitors, runs around with prostitutes, and swears like a fishwife.”

“If you don’t mind me interrupting,” the man seated to John’s right began, “ I might have a solution for you.”

John looked at the stranger, a slight glimmer of hope in his eyes, and held out his hand, “John Winchester, pleased to meet you.”

The man gave a grin, “Zachariah Adler, and same to you. So, Mr Winchester-”

“Please, call me John.”

“John, it sounds like you’ve got a hysterical omega on your hands.”

“Hysterical?”

“Mmmhmm, Hysteria is very very common amongst omegas, as well as women of all classifications. It’s their weaker constitution, makes them all loopy.”

John gave a wry chuckle, and a nod of agreement.

“So they get obstinate, out of hand, cause all sorts of trouble.”

“What causes this Hysteria?”

“Professionals seem to think it’s something to do with the nature of their sex, because outside of their heats they don’t have desires like a red blooded alpha or beta male, everything gets all backed up in the plumbing, and then it turns toxic, starts poisoning the body from the inside out, makes the brain go all funny too.”

John was so enraptured he didn’t see Ellen in his peripheral rolling her eyes.

“Poison?!” John blurted in horror.

“Poison.” Zachariah nodded sagely.

“Is there anything that can be done?! I don’t want my boy to die!”

“Please, Mr Winchester, John, there’s no need to panic. I happen to have the name of the foremost doctor in New York working in the treatment of Hysteria. My Bela sees him twice a week and couldn’t be more obedient. Or happier. Nor could I.” He finished with a leer, and Ellen slammed down a glass and barked, “Mr Adler, not when ladies are present!”

“Apologies, Miss Harvelle.” Zachariah replied with a smarmy grin.

He turned back to John and pulled a business card from his pocket, “Here, I guarantee if you send your son to this man he’ll fix him up good as new.”

John looked at the card that Adler handed him.

                                                                                 Dr Castiel Novak  
                                                                          America’s foremost expert  
                                                                       on female and omega Hysteria  
                                                                              by appointment only

And beneath there was an address not located very far from the blacksmith shop John shared with his friend, a Mr. Robert Singer. John decided that he would pay this Dr Novak a visit during his lunch break the following day.

 

                                                                                   *************

 

_two weeks later_

So soon as Dean’s heat was fully past John sent him straight to Dr Novak, who knew to expect the boy.

Dean was as disagreeable and stubborn as always, and only agreed to the visit on the condition that he be given a full week off from entertaining potential mates, an arrangement both of his parents were happy to oblige if it meant their son might finally get past his petulance.

“I’m not sick, “ Dean insisted “But I’ll see the damn doctor anyway if it makes you both happy.”

Once he was outside and walking toward the doctor’s office Dean’s mood started to improve. Though his heat had ended three days prior, his parents always erred on the side of over-protectiveness and kept him indoors until they were sure all lingering traces of the sex desperate scent had faded, and it felt good to breathe in fresh air, even if Dean wasn’t especially anxious to reach his destination.

This last heat had been hard on him, as he got older and stayed unmated they got worse and worse, his body desperate to be knotted, his fingers and the tunnel of his palm less and less satisfying, and even out of the feverish daze there was a persistent itch under Dean’s skin. Still, itch or no, he wasn’t going to submit to any asshole alpha off the street, and he wished his parents would understand that. Just because Dean was headstrong didn’t mean he was sick, dammit.

As he got closer to his destination Dean’s nerves ramped up. He wasn’t even completely certain what Hysteria meant, nor how it would be treated, and he knew nothing about Dr. Novak except that when he mentioned the doctor to the girls at the dock, Meg had slapped him hard on the back, winked at him, and wished him good luck.

A block away from the office and Dean passed Fergus Crowley’s bank. As he walked past he couldn’t stop himself from sticking his tongue out in a jeer directed at the heavy wooden doors outfitted in shining brass handles. As he chuckled to himself, a gust of brisk air swept past and Dean sped forward.


	2. The Good Doctor

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strong, stoic, unemotional, and disciplined, those were the traits Dr Castiel Novak prided himself on.

In the better New York social circles Dr Castiel Novak was well known as one of the city’s most desirable bachelors. He was a handsome alpha from a respected family, twenty-two years old, only recently established in his own practice but already wildly successful, and unmated. Castiel paid the whole situation little mind. While he wasn't completely immune to the enticing aroma of a ripe omega, he was determined to remain unmated until he was at least thirty, preferring to spend his youth focused on his career.

Raised by a midwife mother, and a physician father, Castiel was expected from a very young age to go into medicine. He was an obedient child, a studious young adult, and he followed the path set before him without questioning. When Castiel enrolled in medical school at the University of Pennsylvania, years early because he had been something of a child prodigy, he initially intended to become an obstetrician, as a way to follow in the footsteps of both of his parents. Then midway through his third year he read a paper on Hysteria, and he found his calling.

That calling being another prime reason why Castiel was unmated, and chose not to court any of the omegas or betas who batted their eyes at him at important social functions. It was unheard of for an alpha to work in the field of Hysteria treatment, common stereotypes keeping most people convinced that alphas were all sex crazed brutes constantly on the hunt for a willing (or in more uncouth circles, unwilling) wet hole to knot. Castiel despised those stereotypes, and made a concerted effort to remain on an even-keel at all times. Strong, stoic, unemotional, and disciplined, those were the traits Castiel prided himself on, not his chiseled good looks and twinkling blue eyes.

That particular Thursday afternoon found Castiel harried and hungry. His morning appointment, a Mrs Bela Adler, had refused to leave, writhing and arching on the examining table and begging Castiel not to stop for so long that the vibrator numbed his hand and he missed the first three quarters of his lunch hour. After, when he stopped at the bank to deposit Mr Adler's payment, Mr Crowley had talked poor Castiel's ear off, regaling him with the vulgar tale of a recent night spent at a den of iniquity. By the time Castiel finished with his banking he was already ten minutes late for his appointment with a new patient, the young Mr Winchester.

Castiel rushed into his office, the door slamming behind him. Halfway through unwrapping his royal blue cashmere scarf from his neck and calling out a greeting to his secretary Inias he froze in place, nostrils flaring.

 _That scent!_  

Castiel found he was no longer hungry, not for food at least. If he were a sentimental sort, and not a man of science, he'd be inclined to say that the green-eyed freckle-faced boy, seated in the waiting area staring at him with a mixture of glaring impatience and shock that certainly matched the look on his own face, was his True Mate. As it was, even with Castiel clinging to rationality with every fiber of his being, it took Inias clearing his throat and calling out "Dr Novak!" at least three times before the blood rushing past Castiel's ears crying out _mate, knot, breed_ subsided and Castiel was able to regain his bearings.

"Dr Novak," Inias spoke sharply as soon as he had Castiel's attention, "this is Mr Winchester, he's here for his appointment."

Castiel turned to the gorgeous young man still staring at him with hard eyes and a dropped jaw, inhaling through a perfectly sculpted nose in short sharp sniffs, and braced himself to give a calm, professional greeting.

"Hello, Mr Winchester," and Castiel had to pause, because his already gravelly voice had dropped at least two octaves, he took a calming breath through his mouth to avoid that maddening scent, "I'm very sorry you had to wait, I'm Dr Castiel Novak. It seems time got away from me today, but I promise I won't cut your appointment short, you'll get the full treatment I promised your father."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No porn yet, but we're getting there. 
> 
> Thanks and love to everyone who subscribed, bookmarked, kudos'd or commented. If I were a dog or a cat I'd name all of my firstborn after all of you.
> 
> you can always talk at me on twitter @jessilikewhoa


	3. Merry Christmas, perverts!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Porn. With some plot. But mostly, porn.

Castiel continued to breathe through his mouth, shallow but slow, as he led Dean to the examining room. When they entered the room he gestured to the table for the omega to sit, then sat down opposite in a sturdy wooden chair so he could go over the preliminary consultation.

“Mr Winchester, after speaking with your father he and I both agree that you appear to be a good candidate for Hysteria treatment, but first I wanted to share some information about myself, and then we can discuss any questions or concerns you might have about the course of treatment. Does that sound alright?”

Dean nodded, eyes still dazed.

“Excellent. My name is Doctor Castiel Novak, I attended medical school at the University of Pennsylvania where I specialized in the treatment of Hysteria. I’ve been published in multiple medical journals, and am considered an expert in the field. As I’m sure you’re aware from my scent, I am an alpha. I promise you that my designation will play no part in how I approach your treatment, and I have never been accused of anything less than complete professionalism. If, however, you’re uncomfortable undergoing these treatments without a witness present, my secretary Inias is a beta and I can ask him to remain present throughout the course of your treatment. I have a short list of questions before we begin, but first, do you have any questions, or would you like me to fetch Inias before we continue?”

Dean took a minute to run all the information Castiel provided through his mind, then asked, “Well, first I guess what I’d really like to know is what _is_ Hysteria? Because I have no idea, but _I know_ I’m not sick.”

“Hysteria is a complicated condition, it affects male omegas, as well as women of all designations, and it manifests in a multitude of ways.”

“That doesn’t really tell me anything, Doc.” Dean scoffed, because True Mate or not, he didn’t take well to being given the run around.

Castiel bit back a grin at Dean’s impudence, something he really shouldn’t find so attractive, since it was a symptom of the potentially dangerous disease currently plaguing his True Ma- **no** , _the patient’s_ body.

“I suppose you’re right, let me try to explain better. Because the groups I mentioned before don’t experience sexual desire-“

Dean couldn’t help himself and interrupted with a loud guffaw as he thought of Meg, Ruby, and Abby down at the docks, or more immediately of himself shut in the small enclosed room with the handsome, though obviously foolish, doctor currently looking at him with his head tilted in confusion at Dean’s outburst. When Dean managed to calm himself and quell his fit of laughter he choked out “You think women and male omegas don’t experience sexual desire?!” before erupting in another burst of laughter.

Castiel drew himself up to sit tall in his chair, and in his most authoritative tone responded, “It’s not a matter of what I think, it’s a matter of science, and science has proven outside of heat or female ovulation these groups do not experience sexual desire.”

Dean smirked, “I hate to be the one to break it to you, but science is _wrong_.”

The smirk and Dean blatantly declaring his own sexual desire should not have made Castiel hot under the collar, but he couldn’t help it, all he could do was attempt to maintain his composure. No, not attempt, he would remain the stoic, level-headed physician he knew himself to be, green eyed temptations be damned.

“Personal opinions aside, science has determined that lack of sexual release causes toxins to build up in the body, toxins that over time can become quite dangerous. As these toxins begin to build the Hysterical patient can show various symptoms, including disobedience, willfulness, an ill-temper, clumsiness, mood-swings, nervousness, and a tendency to cause trouble. Untreated it can lead to madness, even death.”

Dean looked unimpressed, and arched an eyebrow at the doctor, “So I don’t get knotted often enough and I could die? Let me guess, an alpha came up with this nonsense?”

Castiel suppressed a growl, and was more certain than ever that the boy across from him was in dire need of his services.

Dean bit back a grin, already he was enjoying his ability to get the doctor all worked up. He held up his hands in a placating gesture, “Alright, so supposing you’re right, this _Hysteria_ is a real illness, and it’s making me out of sorts, are you going to give me some tonic or something to straighten me out?”

Castiel smoothed his hands over his trousers, pressing out invisible wrinkles as he regained his composure, and gave Dean a weak smile, “No, no, there isn’t a tonic.” He felt uncharacteristically shy, almost embarrassed to explain a medical service he performed on a daily basis to the handsome young man before him. He darted his eyes away from Dean’s, sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck, and managed to blurt out, “The treatment for Hysteria is manual or mechanical stimulation.”

The room remained silent except for the sound of both men breathing, and after a few excruciating minutes Castiel chanced a glance at his patient, he found the boy across from him sitting with a bright blush staining his cheeks, highlighting his freckles, plump lips stuck in a shocked “oh.” At the weight of Castiel’s gaze Dean seemed to pull himself together, and asked, voice slightly cracking, “So you’re telling me you’re going to make me come? As my doctor? And that’s a real thing?”

Cas nodded, feeling his own blush forming to match his mates. And _dear lord, Castiel,_ he thought to himself, _stop thinking of this boy as your mate!_

At Castiel’s nod Dean bit his lower lip in thought, sharp teeth leaving white impressions in otherwise plush red flesh. “So, are you, uh, going to, you know…knot me?”

“Oh! Oh, no, no!” Castiel was quick to protest, “Nothing like that.”

Dean failed to hide a pout, and Castiel didn’t think it was adorable, no, not at all, not even for a minute.

“So what’s going to happen?”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to ask Inias to join us?”

Dean caught the doctor’s gaze and held his eye, “No, I trust you.”

Castiel felt a shiver of anticipation roll down his spine and coil in his stomach. He tried his damnedest to ignore it.

“The treatment involves stimulation of your prostate with either my fingers or an electrical device that gives off vibrations. My patients assure me it’s not painful in the slightest, but if you aren’t accustomed to prostate stimulation you might find the experience to be rather…” Castiel trailed off, searching for the right word, “intense.”

Dean shifted on the examining table, and the heady scent of omega slick began to permeate the air of the small room, “So, do I just strip and present?”

Castiel bit his own tongue to hold back the moan threatening to escape just from the mental picture, Dean bent over, ass in the air, open and leaking.

“Uh, um, no, no,” the doctor managed to stammer out, “first I need you to tell me about your heats.”

Dean’s blush deepened, and he shifted again, “They’re bad, worse as I get older and stay unmated.”

A small voice in the back of Castiel’s head piped up, ‘ _you could help him with that_ ’ and the older man had to physically shake his head to dislodge the thought.

“I, I imagine that would be the case. How are you handling the discomfort?”

Dean looked down at his lap, refusing to meet the doctor’s gaze, and took his right hand and formed a loop, thumb bent to meet fingers, flicking his wrist and jerking through the air, and after a moment said, “And sometimes a little bit of.” and took his left hand, bending fingers and thumb so only middle and index remained pointed out and pressed together, then jabbed the fingers in the air in an upward motion, crooking them simultaneously.

Castiel couldn’t help but gasp, “You stroke your erection?!”

Dean looked up and gave the other man a look that screamed ‘ _are you an idiot?’_ “Uh, yes?”

“But the omega penis is vestigial, it serves no reproductive purpose, the seminal fluid is completely impotent! That’s how children first discovering their genitals stimulate themselves!”

“Look, all I know is it feels good, so I do it.”

Castiel took a deep breath and immediately regretted it as the scent of Dean flooded his senses, he pressed on regardless, “That may very well be the case, but according to the latest findings by Doctor Freud an adult omega should be achieving orgasm from penetrative stimulation alone, and I believe that should be one of our main goals as we move forward in your treatment.”

Dean held back an eye roll at all of Doctor Novak’s ridiculous science and experts and instead gave his most flirtatious grin, “Sounds like a good time to me.”

Castiel blushed like a rose, and Dean internally celebrated his victory at having yet again flustered his mate.

When Castiel recovered from his nervousness, green eyes met blue and held, neither man wanting to break the contact or ruin the moment with words, but as the seconds passed Castiel forced himself to speak, “If you don’t have any other questions, shall we begin?”

Dean flushed but smirked, “Absolutely. How do you want me?”

Castiel ignored the double meaning, and in the steadiest voice he could manage replied, “Please remove all of your clothing, then I’ll need you on your hands and knees on the table, if that’s alright?”

“Whatever you say, Doctor Novak.”

“Please, call me Castiel.” _and where in the hell did that come from?!_ Castiel wondered.

Dean looked up from undoing his suspenders and smiled, “Alright, then, whatever you say Castiel.”

Hearing Dean say his name, Castiel realized he was well and truly done for, but vowed to give no indication of his inner realization. He was a professional, he could do this.

When Castiel came back to the room from his inner monologue he questioned all he had just decreed, Dean was on the table, creamy skin with a light smattering of freckles overtaking all of the doctor’s field of vision. The older man followed miles of smooth limbs to Dean’s center, ass in the air presenting, hole pale pink and fluttering, steadily leaking slick. He felt his own cock give an interested twitch in response, and prayed to every known deity for the ability to maintain his composure.

“Is this good?” Dean asked from where his face was pillowed on crossed forearms, and Castiel had to fake a cough to muffle the involuntary whine that rose in his throat in reply.

He cleared his throat, “Yes, that’s, that’s perfect.”

Dean smirked into the crook of his arm and bit back a chuckle.

The doctor shed his suit jacket and rolled his shirtsleeves to his elbows, he quickly washed his hands at the sink, and then in an awkward shuffle of buzzing anticipation and nerves approached his patient. He reached out a tentative hand and smoothed it over the boy’s lower back, tracing down the crease between his cheeks to press lightly at his entrance. At the sensation of the soft skin under his fingertips Castiel felt lightheaded. He stroked his thumb gently over the pucker and felt more slick pool out in response as the muscle under his touch flexed and clenched.

“I’m-“ Castiel began, voice cracking, throat parched and desert dry, “I’m going to use my fingers today, I don’t want to introduce too much stimulation when you aren’t accustomed to it.”

It was a lie, while the electrical vibrator moved more rapidly, Castiel’s fingers were more nimble, more than one of his patients had referred to them in the past as magical. No, it wasn’t for Dean’s sake the doctor intended to use his fingers, it was for his own. The idea of not getting some part of himself inside of the boy bent over in front of him felt like blasphemy.

Dean replied with a muffled affirmative.

Castiel pressed down with slightly more force, tip of his thumb just breaching the opening, and he sucked in a breath at the tightness, most of his patients were sent by their mates, the fresh new virgin before him an anomaly that Castiel desperately wanted for his own.

“What?” Dean asked, voice low and unsteady.

Castiel must have spoken some of that out loud, he owed his patient an explanation, “I was just saying you’re very- very…tight. You’ll make your mate very happy.”

 _Mine!_ Castiel’s traitorous brain supplied.

It was quite possibly the least professional statement Castiel had ever made, not even touching on the selfish thought he hadn’t voiced aloud, but the way it made Dean push back toward his thumb, eager for more, the doctor couldn’t make himself regret it.

He lightly tugged at Dean’s rim, thrumming the pad of his thumb in a slow steady rhythm, using his fingertips to massage at Dean’s perineum, and as the tight muscle began to loosen Castiel removed his thumb and began to swirl the tip of his index finger through the steadily leaking slick.

When he finally pressed all the way inside, Dean keened. He whirled his finger as Dean’s body pulsed around it, then plunged it in and out in time with the heartbeat thudding in his own ears. Slick was starting to travel down Dean’s thighs, stray drops pooling on the table below.

When Dean’s keens became needy whines Castiel pulled his finger out just far enough so his middle finger could join in the ministrations. He pressed both inside with less hesitancy than he had the initial intrusion, and Dean pressed back to meet him, forcing Castiel’s fingers all the way in to the webbing where they met his palm.

Castiel was officially one hundred percent hard. He only hoped Dean was so wrapped up in his own pleasure that he couldn’t smell the alpha’s arousal.

Dean could smell the alpha’s arousal. Between the sensation of Castiel’s fingers inside of him, and the sharp musky aroma, Dean's entire body felt like it was on fire.

Instinct told Castiel to scissor, to prepare his mate to take his knot, but he suppressed the urge, and instead, with practiced ease, zeroed in on Dean’s prostate.

At the first press of his fingers to that small bundle of nerves, Dean's entire body pulled taut, at the second press Dean spread his legs open wider, threw his head back, and growled, “Oh god!”

Castiel ground up against the edge of the examining table before he could stop himself. He grit his teeth and stepped a few inches back, squaring his feet shoulder’s width apart, determined to stand his ground.

On the table, half lost to lust, Dean was determined to destroy every bit of Castiel’s composure.

Castiel pressed and stroked, massaged and teased, pushed and pushed and pushed.

Slick was pouring from Dean so rapidly that it was trailing down Castiel’s arm, soaking the rolled cuff of his sleeve, and still more was forming a puddle between Dean’s legs, gathering in the divots behind the boy’s knees.

Castiel’s heart was beating so fast, so loud, that he was certain Dean could hear it. His breath was coming out in pants and gasps, only covered up by the sound of Dean moaning.

Then, as Castiel continued his relentless attack, Dean’s moans turned into pleas.

“Cas, Cas…Castiel. Please, oh god, please, touch me.”

Castiel snarled, then caught himself, “Just like this.” he soothed, “You can do it, just like this.”

“I can’t, just, fuck, I can’t, let me, please, something.”

Castiel pressed down harder, moved his agile fingers faster, lightening quick, swirling and rolling and rubbing and pressing.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Dean cried out, unshed tears glistening in his eyes, “I can’t, I can’t!”

“You can.” Castiel growled.

He pressed harder again, faster, refusing to slow even as his fingers began to cramp.

He felt an unfamiliar pressure trying to force his fingers out, not the clamping of Dean's body already gripping him like a vice, but something new, foreign to anything Castiel had experienced before.

He pressed back against the pressure, determined to make Dean orgasm from his fingers alone, but whatever was pushing against him was too great, and as Dean howled, body convulsing, Castiel’s fingers were forced from his body.

As Dean’s cock erupted, come splattering down on the table, slick shot out of Dean’s opening in an arching spray, drenching Castiel from sternum to groin in the hot liquid scent of the young man shaking through his orgasm, soaking right through the fabric of Castiel’s fine dress shirt and mingling with the sweat already coating his skin. A drop landed just below Castiel's bottom lip, and it strained the last remaining threads of his self control to not reach his tongue out and lap it up.

Dean collapsed on the table, paying no mind to the slick and semen covering the surface below, and Castiel froze in complete shock. He had heard stories of women who would orgasm like this, but had never witnessed it himself, and as far as he knew, the phenomenon was completely unheard of in male omegas.

Even more pressing, he felt a knot throbbing in his trousers, demanding release, the first knot he had popped without touching himself since he was a young teenager.

Dean appeared to be coming to, and when Castiel heard him mumble “Holy shit.” he flew into a panic.

“I, I need to go, I have, well, it’s important, please, after you dress, Inias can, if you’ll excuse me.” Castiel stammered, and bolted from the room.

Dean lay in a pool of his own release, blissed out and grinning. He felt incredible, and with the way the doctor had rushed from the room, arousal pouring off of him, he knew it wouldn’t be long until he had Castiel ready to take him as his mate.

                                                                                        *************

Castiel barely had the door to his private office shut before he was yanking open his belt and pulling out his cock, angry, purple, and leaking furiously, knot swollen full and pulsing. It only took two tugs and a tight squeeze to his knot before he shot off like a cannon, come dousing his shirt, mingling with the sopping patches of slick that he knew now, without a doubt, belonged to his True Mate.

Oh yes, he was in trouble.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The bit about Freud was inspired by his adorably archaic ideas on the female orgasm.
> 
> I wrote this in-between cooking Christmas dinner, baking cupcakes, and wrapping presents. I'm pretty impressed with myself. 
> 
> Merry Christmas to all of you. Thanks for reading, and all the kudos and subscriptions and comments, they give me warm fuzzies and temporarily quell my crippling self doubt.
> 
> Still a few chapters to go. You can be my friend or call me names on twitter @jessilikewhoa


	4. Hello, Dean's plan, goodbye Castiel's.

It was infuriating. Ever since Castiel performed the treatment on that Winchester boy, and ended his workday soaked in Dean’s slick and his own semen, it was like he was no longer himself. As soon as he arrived home to his small, but well-appointed apartment, he tore off his soiled shirt and trousers, stoked up a fire, and tossed them in. Then to his endless dismay he had to physically restrain himself from chasing after the flaming garments and yanking them right back out to lock away and keep forever.

He woke up every morning either covered in his own release, or with his knot swollen and aching, ready to come. And always from dreams of freckles and smooth skin, plump lips and slick like ambrosia, calculating green eyes and a high flush. He was half sure he was going mad.

His work suffered, he performed his patients’ treatments in a perfunctory manner. He felt none of the passion and conviction he previously felt for his work. He couldn’t decide if he should tell Inias to tell the Winchester boy he could no longer see him if he came calling for another treatment, or if he should just charge immediately to the Winchester home and claim the boy on the front lawn in sight of the whole of New York.

So he stewed and he brooded and he lusted and he hated, and more than anything he waited, all the while assuring himself that the next time would go differently.

                                                                                        *************

Dean walked home on clouds, with legs like a newborn foal’s. He had found his True Mate, his True Mate was hotter than Hades with a voice like carriage wheels on cobblestone, and on top of that he had come so hard that for a minute there as it was happening he thought he might have died and gone to Heaven.

So now he just had to work his plan, and catch his man.

He opened the front door and called out a hello to his parents. Part one of the plan involved being on his best behavior. He kept his elbows off the table at supper, he acted interested when Sam spoke about his studies, and he even ate his vegetables. He was quick to stand at the end of the meal, declining a second serving of his mother’s apple pie so he could help her clear the table and wash up the dishes. Mary smiled at him fondly, and John ruffled his hair and proudly declared “That’s my boy!” and they both seemed so happy that the treatment had been a success.

Three days later part two began. It involved being the same perfect omega he was the previous days, with a slight twist. He feigned exhaustion in the early afternoon and then hid in his room pretending to need a rest. At supper he again ate his vegetables, but grimaced in disgust at every bite. When Sam spoke of his studies Dean asked questions, but then interrupted Sam’s reply with an exaggerated yawn. He dropped his fork on the floor, and mumbled “Shit!” under his breath as he went to retrieve it, just loud enough for everyone to hear. Once he had the utensil back in hand he plunked his elbows on the table and rested his chin in his hands, “I don’t know why I’m so clumsy?” he pondered, face the picture of innocence. He again declined a second helping of pie, but as he helped his mother with the dishes he feigned almost dropping her favorite serving platter, and she sent him to the sitting room with his father and brother, far from any breakables.

He smirked to himself as he walked away.

At the end of the following week he decided it was time to ramp it up, he pretended to fall asleep at the breakfast table. When he got up from his seat he sent his chair sprawling and barked out “Goddamnit!” After lunch he pulled on his coat and gloves and called to his mother “Ma! I’m goin’ out.”

Mary rushed to the door to meet him, “Where are you going?”

Dean shrugged, “Out. I dunno. Maybe to the docks, or a pub, see if I can catch myself a card game or a good lookin’ sailor.”

He let the door bang closed behind him, muffling his mother’s alarmed reply. He stayed out all afternoon and evening, wandering aimlessly, chatting with the girls down by the docks, and walking past Castiel’s office more than once trying to catch a glimpse of the doctor, to no avail, only heading home when he knew it was almost time for his parents to go to bed.

When he walked in the door he was met by a worried mother and an angry father.

“Where were you?!” John demanded.

Dean rolled his eyes, “Around. And now I’m home, and I’m goin’ to bed. ‘night.”

He stalked past his parents and went to his room, slamming the door behind him, and sat on his bed, listening as his parents went about their nightly rituals. When he heard their door close he slipped quietly from his room and crept to stand outside their room and eavesdrop.

He heard his mother speak first, and couldn’t help but cringe at the worry in her voice, “I don’t understand, he seemed so much better after seeing Dr Novak, but now he’s worse than ever. I’m scared, John.”

Dean heard the smack of a kiss and wrinkled his nose in disgust.

“He’ll be fine, Mary. Novak has a fantastic reputation, we’ll just have to send him back for more treatments until they take.”

Dean only heard the beginning of his mother’s reply as he snuck back into his room grinning from ear to ear.

In the morning, when Dean slumped, elbows on the table, and knocked over his juice glass, spilling apple juice all over the table and drenching John’s morning paper, his father evidently had enough.

“Dean!” he barked, then tried to calm himself, after all, it wasn’t his son’s fault he was ill, he continued in a more measured tone, “Take yourself down to Dr Novak’s today and see if he can fit you in for another treatment.”

“Fine.” Dean mumbled with false petulance, keeping his face downcast to hide the smile quirking his lips.

                                                                                        *************

As a beta, Inias had the luxury of going about life oblivious to the scents of the men and women around him, but it didn’t mean he was oblivious to what had happened in front of him when Castiel met the Winchester boy. Even as a beta he could recognize the first meeting of True Mates.

Unfortunately, he also didn’t have the luxury of being oblivious to the doctor’s foul mood in the days after. If he wasn’t with a patient he came rushing from his office every time the bell chimed over the door to signal someone entering. Every time the person walking through the door wasn’t young Dean Winchester, Inias watched disappointment and relief war on Castiel’s face. So when Dean walked in almost two full weeks after his first visit and inquired if the doctor was available, Inias wasn’t sure if he should tell him to take a seat, or insist Castiel was booked straight up to the Apocalypse and send the boy away.

Despite his frustrations with his employer’s recent temperament, he accepted that it wasn’t his place to send Dean away, and instead went to knock on the closed door of the examining room.

Castiel called through the door, boredom in his voice and that strange little machine buzzing away, Mrs Adler (her fifth visit in nine days) moaning in the background.

“I’m with a patient, what is it?”

“Mr Winchester is here, and wondered if you had time to see him today?”

The buzzing immediately increased in volume and Mrs Adler cried out. Castiel spoke over her cries, “Yes, thank you Inias. Tell Mr Winchester I’ll be ready to see him shortly.”

Five minutes later Bela Adler stormed out of the examining room in a huff while straightening her dress, threw an icy glare at both Dean and Inias, and buttoned her coat so fast that it ended up crooked. Inias had to fake a coughing fit to stifle his laughter, at both Mrs Adler’s irritation, and at the waves of jealousy pouring off of Dean, noticeable even to a beta like himself.

Fifteen minutes later Castiel emerged into the reception area, the nonchalant expression on his face fooling nobody, least of all his secretary who knew for a fact Mrs Adler’s appointments usually lasted twice as long, and that it took far less than fifteen minutes for Castiel to sanitize his office and his person.

“Hello, Dean.”

                                                                                        *************

So far as Castiel could tell, just by existing Dean Winchester was destroying every ounce of his professionalism. He had never ended a treatment as fast as he had Bela Adler’s in his entire career. He liked to take his time, make sure to be thorough, but as soon as he heard Dean was there he hustled her toward the finish like he was some harlot in a whorehouse. And then on top of everything, so soon as he scented the pained jealousy pouring off of the young Winchester, he had to stay back in the hall in order to calm himself and keep himself from rushing to the boy and groveling in apology. Which was _insane_ , he was a physician performing a service, the same service he would perform on Dean shortly, that wasn’t cause for apology, and besides, Dean wasn’t his mate.

_YET_ supplied Castiel’s stupid, traitorous brain.

So he gathered himself, plastered on his most neutral face, took a deep breath through his mouth, and went to greet the patient.

“Hello, Dean.”

                                                                                        *************

Dean was in Heaven, or maybe it was Hell. As soon as he walked in the door he was surrounded by the smell of mate, and home. But then that woman was there, smelling of his mate and her own climax, and there wasn’t even a thing Dean could do about it since, minor technicality, Castiel wasn’t his mate yet.

So he sat, and waited, and grit his teeth to keep himself from storming the doctor’s office and demanding Castiel knot him right this instant. Dean was almost certain Castiel was much too stubborn to respond well to ultimatums. Instead, he had to stick with his plan.

Then the man in question walked out, and despite the calm facade he presented, Dean could smell him, apology, which Dean appreciated, anxiety, which Dean longed to soothe away, and a hint of fresh arousal Dean longed to bring simmering to the surface.

“Hello, Dean.”

“Heya, Cas,” Dean replied, standing with a cheeky grin, “thanks for making the time to see me.”

Castiel led Dean back to the examining room and they took the same places they had the previous visit, Cas in his chair and Dean seated on the table.

“How have you been feeling?”

“Oh you know, same ol’, same ol’.”

“No change at all?”

“Nope” Dean popped the P.

“So, you’re back for another treatment, even though the first was ineffective?”

Dean gave a practiced shrug and only half lied, “My father insisted.”

“I see.” Castiel fought to keep the disappointment off his face.

“So doc, how do you want me? Ass up again?”

“No.” Castiel replied quickly, _dear God no_ he thought, already that image was haunting him night and day, there was no way he could withstand seeing it again and not just _taking_. As it was, he decided before Dean even came back that should the situation arise he’d be using the machine for the boy’s treatment, not trusting himself to be able to stop should he feel that tight wet warmth around his fingers again.

“Please undress and then lay back on the table.”

While Castiel turned away to wash his hands and to allow Dean to undress, Dean didn’t bother to suppress a smirk at the flustered, and obviously sexually frustrated doctor.

Castiel turned back around to find Dean in place, head resting on a thin pillow and knees crooked, calves hanging off the end of the table. His cock was still mostly flaccid, laying in a nest of light auburn curls, but beginning to grow.

“Lift your feet up on the table for a moment.” Castiel instructed, then when Dean complied pulled out the stirrups.

“Place your feet in these, they’ll help support your legs and hold them open for the treatment.” The doctor’s voice gave an audible crack at the word ‘open.’

Dean again complied, and as the cool air met the slick slowly beginning to leak from his entrance the boy shivered and felt his erection swiftly filling with blood.

Castiel turned away to fetch the machine for the vibration treatment and attached a slim rubber phallus over the end of the metal contraption. When he turned back to Dean to explain the plan for the day he almost choked on his own rapidly pooling saliva.

Because it served no reproductive purpose, the average male omega penis averaged only 3-4 inches fully erect. Dean was evidently the exception to the rule, while he wasn’t hung like an alpha, he looked to be a good five and a half, maybe even six inches, and what Castiel couldn’t help but think was a rather perfect thickness.

Castiel realized he was staring and quickly averted his eyes to make adjustments to the dials on the machine. What was he even thinking?! Even if he should give in to the silly, romantic notion of True Mates, and accept that Dean was his, he was a respected physician, a red-blooded American alpha, not some sick twisted pervert! In which case why was it taking every last ounce of his self-control to not bend over and suck that vestigial omega cock right down his throat?

He turned back to Dean and cleared his throat before speaking. “This machine creates vibration. Using the dials I can vary their speed and intensity. We will again be focused on bringing you to climax without stimulating your-“ Castiel closed his eyes, counted to ten in his head, and took a measured breath, then finished “your phallus.”

Dean tipped his head up to make eye contact with the doctor, though he was upset he wouldn’t get to feel his mate’s slim fingers pressed inside of him, he plastered on a grin, “Sounds good, I’m ready when you are.”

“Excellent. Today I’ve just attached a simple rubber phallus, similar to that of a beta male. If you take this well, then your next treatment we can talk about using an attachment modeled after an alpha, with an artificial knot that inflates using a handheld pump.”

Dean nodded in agreement, but in his head he smirked, _next time there’ll be a knot in me alright, but it won’t be rubber, it’ll be attached to a foolish blue eyed doctor sinking a mating mark into my neck._

Castiel switched on the power to the machine, and started swirling the head of the rubber cock, only giving off the lightest of vibrations, through the slick that was pouring more and more rapidly from Dean’s body.

“Let me know if it’s too much.”

Dean hummed out an agreement, and bit his lip at the foreign, but not wholly unwelcome sensation.

Castiel kept his eyes focused with a marksman’s precision on Dean’s entrance, avoiding looking at that enticing cock or those inviting eyes, as it began to swallow the slim vibrator. He was surprised at the lack of resistance he met as he fed the device in to the hilt and angled it, searching. The boy was still obviously a virgin, which left Castiel’s inner alpha nearly purring with satisfaction, but his body seemed to bloom open like a rose, no- more- hungry like a venus flytrap.

Castiel had been half hard since he smelled Dean in the waiting area, and he felt his cock give an eager jolt at the thought of Dean’s body welcoming him inside just as easily, just as needy and wanting. He refused to acknowledge that it happened.

Dean was quieter this time, almost seemed to be holding back, so as Castiel continued his search he turned up the vibrations to the next level.

Shortly he watched Dean’s back bow, and heard the boy cry out, quieter than before, but Castiel knew he hit the spot. He again turned up the device, gears began to hum loudly in the power-source.

Dean was going crazy, the vibrations felt _so_ good, but he wanted his alpha, not some rubber and machinery. He resented being deprived of Castiel’s fingers, being denied Castiel’s knot. He couldn’t get lost in the pleasure, because he felt so dejected.

Castiel again turned up the vibrations, so intense Dean could feel them travel from his prostate through bones and blood, in his fingernails and his teeth.

It still wasn’t enough, wasn't what Dean wanted, needed. He cried out and writhed, not in pleasure, but frustration.

Castiel could smell the unhappiness coming from his mate, and longed to fix the pain he was causing, but it wasn’t his place, he couldn’t, he had a plan! No mate until thirty. Focus on career. Remain respectable and stoic and objective and uninvolved.

_Fuck._ Castiel swore to himself, he couldn’t do it, could’t make Dean miserable.

“Dean,” he asked, voice soft, “what do you need?”

“Please, please, just, touch me, your fingers, don’t want, don’t want the machine, want you.”

Castiel felt his knot filling and his cock throb. He slid the vibrator from Dean’s body quick but gentle, and set it on his instrument table. It shook and rattled the surrounding jars and tools until Castiel switched it off.

He couldn’t stop himself from gentling his hands up Dean’s thighs in unspoken apology before plunging two fingers inside right to the webbing. Dean’s body welcomed him, pulling him inside, just as he knew it would. He spun his fingers into the perfect position and began rubbing.

He couldn’t seem to control himself, “I’m sorry Dean, I’m so sorry.” he blurted as he continued his ministrations.

“S’ok, s’ok Cas.” Dean moaned as his scent changed from discomfort to pleasure.

“Is this good?”

“S’good, so good.” Dean panted.

Castiel pressed down on the small bundle of nerves and watched the long line of Dean’s neck as he threw back his head and cried out in pleasure.

“MORE.” Dean demanded.

Castiel obliged, adding a third finger, though it was unnecessary for the treatment. He sped up his fingers, and felt his knot pulse with need.

“Touch me,” Dean begged, and Castiel looked away from where his hand was joined with Dean’s body to see the omega’s cock purple and leaking.

“I can’t, I, I don’t, Dean, the treatment.”

“Please Cas, need you, need you to touch me, f-fuck the treatment, need you.”

Castiel broke.

He reached out his left hand and swept it through the pool of slick sliding down toward Dean’s tailbone, then wrapped it around Dean’s weeping cock.

Dean’s body pulled taut, scent of arousal so thick Castiel was sure it could be smelled out on the street. The thick vein on the omega’s cock echoed Castiel’s own heart, beating in his ears.

Castiel sped his fingers up inside of Dean, pressing harder, and Dean thrust up into his other hand. Only three thrusts more and semen was erupting, from Dean, leaking down and chasing the gaps between Castiel’s fingers, and from Castiel too, soaking the front of his trousers and running down his thigh in hot trails.

Both men cried out, and Castiel slumped forward, resting his forehead on Dean’s hip.

Castiel felt tentative fingers brush through his hair, and it pulled him from his reverie. He looked up, shocked blue eyes meeting joyful green, that quickly clouded over in worry as Dean saw the fear and uncertainty on Castiel’s face.

“Cas?” Dean spoke quietly.

Castiel rose, carefully sliding his fingers out of Dean, and stepped back, immediately feeling a chill in a way that had little to do with the brisk weather outside.

“Dean.” Castiel breathed.

“I-“ Castiel didn’t even know what to say, he had broke it all, his personal convictions, his ethics as a physician. And now, he feared he was about to break Dean as well.

Dean must have sensed it, smelled Castiel’s fear, something, because he sat up and looked Castiel straight in the eye, and said, “Don’t you dare tell me you’re sorry.”

“But-“ Castiel began to protest, but Dean cut him off.

“No, dammit. You don’t get to tell me you’re sorry for that. I know you know who I am, what I am to you, what we are to each other. You can try to pretend otherwise, but you know.”

“Dean, True Mates, it’s, it’s crazy, it’s not grounded in science, that two people are designed for each other, meant to be? It’s absurd.”

Dean hopped from the examining table, still stark naked, and stormed up to Castiel, walking them both back until Castiel hit the wall, then Dean jabbed a finger in Castiel’s chest, “What’s absurd is the way you’re fighting this,” Dean gestured at the obvious wet spot spreading on the front of Castiel’s pants, “does that happen with your other patients?”

“No! Of course not.”

Dean’s anger started to give way and a small smile started taking shape on his face, “You pop a knot with any of your other patients?”

Castiel shook his head, and leaned back as Dean moved in even closer, “No, never.”

Dean placed his palms on the wall framing Castiel’s head and leaned in nose to nose, “If your other patients tried to kiss you, would you stop them?” he asked in a whisper.

Castiel gave a small nod, “Absolutely.” he whispered back.

“I’m going to kiss you Cas, are you going to stop me?”

Castiel said nothing, which was answer enough in itself.

Dean closed the distance, and Castiel’s eyes fluttered closed, and then Dean surprised the doctor with a quick chaste peck.

As Dean pulled away Castiel opened his eyes, “Wha..?”

Dean grabbed his clothes from where they were folded on a small stool in the corner and started dressing, “Sorry, doc, but that’s all you’re getting out of me without us being mated.” He tossed the dazed alpha a cheeky grin.

“Dean, I’m not sure, we barely know each other, and mating is such a big step.”

“Don’t worry, alpha,” Dean replied, “you’ve got a little while still to think it over.”

Castiel only grew more confused, “I don’t know what you’re even talking about.”

Dean just smiled wider, “I know.”

Dressed again, Dean walked from the room, whistling and happy.

At the hooks by the door he shrugged on his coat, and pulled on his hat, then, checking over his shoulder to be sure Inias wasn’t looking, he pulled a royal blue cashmere scarf from an adjacent peg, and surreptitiously stuffed it into his coat pocket.

As he opened the door he turned to face the secretary, “Oh, Inias,” and the secretary looked up, “Do me a favor, tell the doctor he’ll be seeing me soon.”

                                                                                        *************

Castiel stood, still leaned against the wall, oblivious to the semen rapidly cooling in his trousers, and stared at the door Dean has just walked out of.

He had no idea what the omega had planned.

He was only certain that it would inevitably end with Castiel and Dean mated. He was also rather certain he wouldn’t mind that outcome at all.

He slumped down the wall and landed unceremoniously on his ass on the cold hard floor. He shook his head but couldn’t hold back a happy laugh. That green eyed omega had barged in and turned his life upside down, and if he was honest with himself, he didn’t mind one bit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things I am not: A medical historian. An expert on antique sex toys.
> 
> Which means, did they have stirrups yet back then? Fuck if I know. Was that at all an accurate representation of an antique vibrator? *shrug* Probably not, since I made it up from the depths of my imagination. I did google to see if rubber was in use back then, it was, so that's something. 
> 
> But I mean, you guys, we're dealing here in a world that has self lubricating assholes and mpreg, I don't think accuracy is a big issue.
> 
> Call me names, tell me I'm pretty and smart, whatever you want, on twitter @jessilikewhoa


	5. Knot Waiting Anymore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's back! I bet you forgot it even existed, but HEY it's mating time!

As soon as Dean returned from Castiel’s office, following his return with an incredible warm bath, relaxed and hazy from his orgasm, and even more so from the brief kiss he shared with his mate, he decided it was time he speak with his parents, and explain the current circumstances.

His father was initially quite cross.

“You’re telling me, I’ve been paying your mate to _touch you_ and the man hasn’t the decency to come speak to your parents about his intentions?!”

Mary calmed John down, and allowed Dean to finish explaining.

Or, half explaining. He neglected to tell them his plan. Only that the good ( _very good_ ) Dr Novak was his True Mate. That the man needed time to come to terms with all that entailed, and that Dean meant to respect his wishes. In the meantime he would be taking no callers.

John was skeptical, but Mary said she would allow Dean the time he needed. 

All that was left was to wait.

*************

_A Week And A Half Later_

It didn’t escape Castiel’s notice that were he an omega he would likely have been diagnosed with Hysteria in light of his behavior since his last appointment with the young Mr Winchester.

It had been nearly two weeks with no word, and every day Castiel grew more distraught. Distressed. Dismayed. Discombobulated. And frankly, disheveled. He had abandoned his vests and bow ties, the tails of his shirts remained untucked, hanging in bunched flaps between his suspenders. His hair was a bird’s nest. Even his coat looked like it had been run over by a stage coach, the collar flipped up and bent all out of shape, a necessary evil against the still cool March air, since someone had rudely made off with his scarf, and the doctor hadn’t had the emotional energy to make the effort to purchase a replacement.

Two days after Dean’s last visit Castiel had been forced, in part at the insistence of Inias, to cancel all his appointments indefinitely. He hadn’t made much effort to argue. His constant state, warring between arousal and irritation, made acting in a professional manner completely out of the question.

Instead he sat in his office, working on a paper he had promised an academic journal. It focused on the response of the male omega to various stimuli during Hysteria treatment. Little writing was accomplished though, as every time Castiel began to write, he pictured Dean on his examining table, flush and wet. He remembered the boy’s scent, the feel of his slick when he shot off like a geyser, drenching Castiel and truly, if the doctor were honest with himself, marking him like he was Dean’s bitch, not the other way around.

Most attempts at writing devolved into intense masturbatory sessions. Chafing became a legitimate worry. Hell, were Castiel not a physician he’d be distinctly worried about hairy palms and going blind. 

In short, he was a mess. He had half a mind to go to the Winchester residence and firmly ask for the boy’s hand in marriage right then and there.

But Dean had a plan, and deep down, Castiel knew it would be worth the wait.

 

*************

 

Dean woke up slowly, a grin on his face as his eyes blinked open, fading remnants of his dream dancing behind his eyelids, his legs splayed wide and knees bent over Castiel’s shoulders, the doctor knelt between his thighs, face buried between his cheeks, licking, sucking, slurping, fingers working, voice raspy, begging, _Please, please Dean, please,_ slick dripping off his face, glistening against stubble that was leaving a rough burn on Dean’s delicate skin _I need you to come for me Dean, want you to squirt all over me, in my mouth, on my face, everywhere._ Wet sounds and heat and the feeling of being splayed wide, and heat, so much heat.

Dean sat up abruptly, and felt slick pooling under him. _HEAT._

His skin thrummed, felt tight, tingling. He knew the slightest touch would bruise, the blood all running too close to the surface. Semen from his wet dream was pooled under his nightgown, but it wasn’t cooling.

It was time!

He took a bath, hot as he could stand it, and scrubbed himself head to toe, using his mother’s cheap soap, fragrance of artificial violets like candy, in hopes of masking his own scent until he could reach his mate.

After, he dabbed some of the matching perfume on his pulse points, looked at himself in the mirror and wished himself luck.

He dressed quickly, made sure to wear clothes fresh from the laundry, neutral in scent.

Then, after he pulled on his overcoat, he wrapped Castiel’s scarf around his neck.

He hoped that was enough, the beta perfume, and the smell of alpha in the place a mating mark would lie, enough to cover the smell of his heat as he raced to Castiel’s office.

In the streets he dared not run, though people in urban areas found the practice of a mating run archaic, he didn’t want to risk awakening some latent instinct in any random alpha.

No, the only alpha he wanted to reduce to a primal state was a certain blue eyed doctor.

Instead he walked briskly, pulled his coat tighter against the chill that nipped frigidly in light of his current state. 

The walk, though not long, felt as though it took forever. He buried his face in royal blue cashmere as he walked, took deep whiffs of the scent of mate to soothe himself.

The last block was the worst. Slick had started soaking through his trousers, and though the streets were fairly empty, even a glance from a passerby had him nervous. He sped up his pace, and at last burst through the door of the doctor’s office.

 

*************

 

Inias started when the door flew open, banging into the wall it swung with such force, the bells overhead chiming loudly. 

He dropped the novel he was reading in surprise, and the words, “I’m sorry, but Dr Novak is not currently seeing any patients.” were on the tip of his tongue, but caught there at the sight before him.

Dean Winchester’s eyes were fever bright, a red flush was painted behind his freckled cheeks, running across the bridge of his nose and down, straight to, _Oh!, That’s where the doctor’s scarf went!_.

His hair was wind mussed, and his forehead was dewey with a light sheen of sweat. The young man stood in the doorway, swaying, hands with white knuckles gripping the frame.

Now, the ability to sense mating pheromones was lost on the beta, and he had long grown immune to the scent of arousal what with working where he did, but even with the door letting gusts of cool air into the office, the boy absolutely reeked of sex.

Inias cleared his throat and turned to call for the doctor, but was stopped in his tracks by an inhuman growl.

“Get out!” Castiel demanded as he barreled down the hallway. 

Dean moaned.

“D-d-dr-“ Inias stammered, “I, I do think you should see the boy.”

Castiel turned to his secretary, baring his teeth, incisors sharpening. 

“Not him, _you_! Leave, immediately. I’ll send for you when you may return to work, but now, LEAVE!”

Dean stepped out of the beta’s way as he made his escape, and entered the room, door latching behind Inias, then the omega was face to face with his mate, but still keeping his distance. He was determined to do this right.

Castiel was of the same mind, and braced himself in place, holding back from rushing forward to claim what was rightfully his.

Instead he spoke, voice rasping, “ _You_ stole my scarf!”

Which frankly, wasn’t the opening statement either expected.

Dean took a moment to reply, but then held his chin up defiantly, “Not stole, borrowed.”

“So, you’ve come to return it?”

Dean huffed, “You know damn well that’s not what I’m here for.”

Castiel scented the air, obvious and deliberate, “No, no it’s not. But in that case, why are you over there, when I’m over here.”

Dean looked down at his feet, all bluster and confidence washed away, “Need you to be sure, sure that you want _this_ , that you want _me_.”

The air shifted, and the scent of aroused alpha surrounded Dean, arousal and something else, affection, acceptance.

Dean looked up and was met with Castiel’s eyes, shining bright like a beacon right in front of his face.

“Dean, if I’m being honest with you, and with myself, some part of me has been sure since the minute I saw you.”

And at that they were on each other. Dean wrapped tight in Castiel’s arms, hot sloppy kisses exchanged. Castiel tore at his own scarf, shredding it in his hurry to expose Dean’s neck, to bury his face there and scent his mate properly for the first time.

The smell was intoxicating. But another scent threatened to overpower it, the smell of Dean’s slick.

The boy’s skin was hot to the touch, everywhere Castiel touched and nosed at goosebumps rose in his wake.

The lightest suction where neck met shoulder left a dark bruise.

Castiel nipped at Dean’s ear as the boy scented him in turn, mouthing languidly at Castiel’s pulse point.

The alpha breathed into his mate’s ear, “You must be going crazy, your scent, it’s so strong, I bet you’re absolutely sopping wet.”

In response Dean bucked forward, the hot hard line of his cock in his trousers sliding against Castiel’s own, wool on wool rustling loudly underneath both men’s panting breaths and the wet sounds of kissing and nipping.

“What do you want, Dean?” Castiel asked before tugging shapely at Dean’s earlobe with his teeth. 

Dean groaned, “Fuck, want you, _need you_.”

Castiel lifted Dean up, bowed legs wrapped around his waist, Dean writhing and grinding against him. He fit one hand in the dip of the boy’s spine, and the other underneath him, his hand immediately covered in slick.

It was Dean’s turn to nip at Castiel’s ear, and then a rush of filth, “You gonna mate me, Doc? Gonna knot me up good? Tie us together and make me yours, pump me full and fill my belly with your pups so everyone knows that I’m yours, and that _you’re mine_?”

In hindsight, Castiel would later joke to Dean that at that moment he probably broke the land speed record for a man carrying 125 pounds of fertile omega, but at the moment all Castiel saw was alpha red.

Almost immediately they were in Castiel’s office, and the doctor gripped Dean tight with one arm as he used the other to throw everything straight off his desk. In contrast with the violence of that action, he gently laid Dean down, carefully cradling the boy’s head so that Dean, in his fevered state of heat induced euphoria, wouldn’t hurt himself.

He made quick work of the omega’s clothes, tearing them from the hot writhing body before him in a near frenzy. Then he froze.

He had seen Dean naked before, wet and flushed, but in heat, under these very different circumstances, the boy was mesmerizing. The blush traveling his lithe freckled body made him look like a cherub from some five and dime Valentine, or, were Castiel feeling more vulgar and less sentimental, like something straight off of one of his cousin Gabriel’s erotic tintypes. 

Castiel stared as though he were seeing something holy.

Dean was feeling far less reverent. 

“You know, this isn’t the Met, you can look **_and_** touch.”

Castiel jolted back into action, falling to his knees at the edge of the desk and grasping Dean by both calves he tugged til the boy's ass was close to toppling off, then led fully by instinct tipped his head forward, inhaled deeply, and took a sharp little nip at Dean’s left cheek. 

Dean responded by arching his back and pressing his ass firmly into his soon to be mate’s face.

Castiel did not complain. 

He spread the boy wide and dove in tongue first. Dean’s slick was sweet, with an underlying tang like electricity on his tastebuds. He was immediately addicted. Just as he expected Dean opened for him like their bodies were watch gears designed by God himself. He plunged his tongue deeper, swallowing slick like he could get drunk on it if he tried hard enough, more still running down his chin and saturating his shirt collar. 

Much to his dismay he was pulled from his new favorite meal, quite literally, by a hand tugging at the hair atop his head. 

Without Dean’s thighs acting as earmuffs, he could hear the boy’s cries.

“Hey, hey, Cas, Cas, ALPHA, please, need your knot, gonna, fuck, gonna come on your tongue, but I need, Cas, Castiel, I NEED.” 

And really, who was Castiel to deny him?

The alpha shed his own clothes, then pushed Dean’s knees up to his chest. He leaned over the young body below him and stole a kiss, then against Dean’s lips whispered “Are you sure?”

Dean growled, so unlike a stereotypical omega even in heat, and nipped at the doctor’s glistening lips, “So help me, if you don’t take me _right now_ I’m putting you on this table and riding you like we’re in a Wild West show.”

Castiel filed that thought away for a later date, and thrust two fingers into his mate’s sopping hole, swirling and scissoring. Once he was sure Dean was good and open, not a long wait at all, and his hand was nicely soaked in slick, he stroked himself to spread the wetness and pressed inside.

Dean’s body pulled him all the way in, tight muscle pushing his foreskin back and pulsing against his sensitive head. It was nothing like his hand, nothing like his wildest dreams, it was so beyond perfect that if his knuckles weren’t cramping from how hard he was gripping the edges of the desk, he’d be quite certain he had died and gone to Heaven. 

Dean was just as ecstatic, the sensation of being so incredibly full, thick and deep and feeling like he might just explode from the perfect pressure, his gorgeous mate above him, big fat alpha cock inside of him, he’d never been so happy to be an omega a day in his life. 

Then Castiel pulled out slowly, almost all the way, thrust back in just as cautiously, strong thighs gently smacking up against Dean’s plump ass, and it suddenly wasn’t quite enough, they both needed faster, deeper, harder, and at Dean’s demands, Castiel gladly complied.

He barreled into his omega like a steam locomotive, and it was _everything_. Slick gushed out around him, Dean mewled and squirmed and wrapped his ankles around Castiel’s neck. In turn Cas nipped at Dean’s calf, and transferred his grip from the desk to milky thighs, pressing perfect hand shaped bruises to heat sensitive skin. 

For what might have been minutes, or maybe hours, the only sound was flesh slapping against flesh, and vocalizations made of too many vowels and too few consonants to be classified as words. 

Then Castiel’s knot started to catch, and it was like he had tunnel vision, everything narrowed down to Dean, Dean, Dean.

When the alpha’s knot finally locked inside, Dean’s orgasm hit like an earthquake, his whole body shook in pleasure, his last active thought a reminder to bare his neck.

Castiel howled as Dean came, a deep noise reverberated from his chest, the tightness clamping down on his knot overwhelming in it’s intensity. As he came with his mate, first heavy load pumping deep inside, he dropped Dean’s legs from his shoulders and fell forward, teeth sharp and sinking through flesh like Dean was the most delicate and delectable pastry. 

Dean’s blood spilled into his mouth as he continued to spill into Dean, bodies latched together in a perfect circuit. 

Castiel was a man of science, but scientists could be fools same as any other men, and Castiel knew undoubtedly that he had been a fool, because there was no getting around it, the boy giving off the most beautiful scent, sated and content, was meant for him, just as he was meant for that willful, beautiful boy. 

He was a new man, and he believed in only one absolute truth, True Mates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Damn, you guys, I'm really sorry. Depression is a bastard, there's that part where it's like quicksand, literally dragging you down so you can barely find the energy to eat let alone do non-essential stuff, then there's the enthusiasm deficit where like, whatevs, who cares? not me! and then the self-doubt, where depression whispers in your ear that you're the worstest at everything so you shouldn't even try.
> 
> It's been a real shitty year. But hey, I'm working on it, I'm alive which is always cool, and I finally seem to have gotten past the block on my writing, for this fic at least, cause this baby is DONE. There's an epilogue, all written and everything, just waiting for a final edit. It's pretty great too, if I say so, which I do. So I'll get that edit done in the next day or two, and toss that up, then this can go down in history as the slowest updating fic ever. 
> 
> Per usual you can find me on twitter @jessilikewhoa


	6. ....and they lived happily ever after

**Ten Years Later**

The sun began to set and fireflies twinkled in the dusk. Dean leaned back against his alpha on the porch steps of their home. 

Ziggy- a nickname, full name Sigmund Winchester-Novak- toddled through the large yard as fast as her chubby three-year-old legs could carry her, hands flailing after the glowing insects, happy shrieks peppering the evening air. 

Castiel ran his palms over Dean’s belly, already starting to swell, only three months into his second pregnancy. 

“I love your body” Cas husked into his mates ear, “but I especially love it when you’re carrying my pup.”

Dean shivered, though the night was warm, “Oh yeah?” he murmured back.

“Mmmhmm, you get so _full_ and _round_ , and you glow.”

“I glow?” Dean laughed.

“You glow. And-“ Castiel looked to be sure their daughter was distracted, then thumbed over Dean’s nipples, pressing closer to his mate’s back at the low rumble that his omega sounded, “you get _so_ responsive.”

“Fuck, Cas,” Dean whined, “don’t get me all wet when Ziggy still needs to be put to bed.”

Castiel kissed Dean’s mating mark in apology, “Sorry, seems like all these years later I still can’t control myself with you.”

Dean laughed, “C’mon, you sentimental old fool, let’s get our girl all tucked in, and we can pick this back up in the bedroom.”

 

*************

After bribing their child into bed with two bedtime stories and a promise of a trip to the soda fountain for black cows the next day, the mates quickly stripped to their underclothes and snuggled close together in bed, quilt kicked off due to the pregnant omega’s increasing sensitivity to the summer heat.

Spooned up behind Dean, Castiel resumed stroking his mate’s stomach despite the omega already insistently pressing his ass back against the alpha’s groin. 

“Can’t believe we waited so long to start a family.” Castiel marveled.

“Yeah well, if my big strong alpha didn’t love playing at being the omega, we’d probably have at least two more pups by now.”

Castiel huffed, warm breath hitting Dean’s ear, causing goosebumps to spread along the arc of his neck. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” he lied. 

“Uh huh, so you’re saying you don’t love me stretching you open, getting you all wet with _my_ slick, and then fucking you full of, oh god, what was it you called it? Shit-give me a minute, I know I’ll…AHA! That’s it. Sorry. As I was saying. Stretch you open with my fingers dripping with my sweet, tangy slick, til you’re begging for it, then fucking you nice and full of _vestigial_ omega cock?”

Castiel lightly thwacked Dean on his shoulder, “Don’t mock me when you’re dirty talking!”

“Who says I’m dirty talking?”

Castiel pressed his half hard cock to the omega’s crack, “That’s who.”

Dean hummed happily and wiggled back, “Oh him, he’s my favorite.”

Cas laughed, “So you’ve said.”

Dean turned to face his mate, “Seriously though, thank you for waiting until I was ready.”

Castiel pressed a kiss to what he was still sure were the prettiest lips in the entire universe, “You know I’d give you anything, anything within my power.”

Dean kissed him back, “Still, I know it wasn’t easy, especially with how people talked.”

_After they had mated, Castiel closed his practice. Meeting Dean, falling for Dean, his stubborn, smart mouthed, willful omega, had convinced him that Hysteria was an absurd concept, add to that Dean’s threats that he’d keep Cas chained up in the basement if he so much as considered touching another naked omega in such an intimate way, and the inevitable hit to his reputation that mating, a patient no less, as everyone was quick to whisper, had caused, and it seemed as though continuing as America’s foremost expert on omega and female Hysteria was no longer a viable career path._

_Castiel floundered. Luckily he had a fair amount of money saved, but Dean insisted on helping out at his father’s blacksmith shop all the same, just to be sure they wouldn’t end up in the poor house._

_More whispers followed. Also, pitying stares on the streets._

_Then Dean and Cas ran into Meg at Harvelle’s one night, and discovered she was no longer working the docks, rather she was helping a group of nurses who were assisting omegas and beta women with family planning, despite the Comstock Laws. Cas was intrigued, and soon bounced back from his melancholy now that he had a new cause to serve._

_He began helping Meg’s nurses, led by a fierce, determined beta by the name of Sanger._

_Again, there were whispers. And as Dean’s stomach stayed flat, those whispers intensified. They were thwarting God using birth control like that, people hissed, and was anybody really surprised, after all, that Novak is a pervert, gets off on touching all sorts of omegas, probably doesn’t even realize God intended sex for making babies, people muttered._

_He would have happily kept it up, ignoring all the gossip, but 5 years after mating, his mate, no longer a boy of 18 but a man of 23, said the words he had been waiting to hear, “Let’s do it, let’s have a pup.”_

_Castiel quit his family planning work for the safety of his soon to be growing family, quietly joined his friend Balthazar’s established family practice, and beamed as Dean threw away his illicit diaphragm._

_It actually went well, working with Balthazar. Mostly people stopped whispering, and Balthazar was a great colleague. Castiel found that working as a general physician could be just as satisfying as his more specialized and politicized work._

_Starting a family was another story. It took over a year for Dean to get pregnant, and during that year, the rare whispers Castiel overheard _hurt_. A small part of him worried they were right, he was a pervert, he had thwarted God, and to punish him, he and Dean would never get the child they both so desperately wanted._

_It was the second happiest day of Castiel’s life when Dean vomited his poached eggs into the kitchen sink._

_Though the happiness held, and grew and grew, right alongside his gorgeous ripe omega, so too did Castiel’s worries. It seemed every day there was a new sensationalist story in the paper, stranglers! industrial pollution! labor riots!_

_Castiel firmly declared there was no way they’d be raising their child in the city. Dean, already an overprotective father, gladly agreed._

_So with Dean 6 months pregnant, they moved upstate. They had visited the area a few years prior for a Women’s & Omega’s Suffrage rally, and had loved the beauty of the area. It was a natural choice when it came time to settle into family life._

_They found a home, a beautiful farmhouse outside Syracuse, and Castiel opened a general practice in the city. He took on a beta midwife named Charlie, and he and Dean befriended she and her _friend_ Dorothy, another beta who worked as a reporter for the city paper, the two women living together happily in a Boston Marriage. _

_Ziggy was born in the fall, changing their lives as the leaves changed._

_Dean was the one who suggested the name, Castiel resisted at first, embarrassed by all the wrongheaded beliefs he has previously held, but when Dean pointed out that Freud was in part responsible for them finding each other, the alpha found he could no longer argue._

_After Ziggy’s birth, Castiel’s inner alpha immediately wanted his mate pregnant again, but Dean wanted to wait, so they got another illicit diaphragm and Castiel spent his days at work counting down the minutes til he could return to his daughter and his mate. He spent his nights tangled in the sheets with Dean, making quiet sounds of pleasure in the dark, careful not to wake their pup._

_The new pregnancy was a surprise, apparently Castiel’s virility had taken insult at the struggles they had the first time around, and saw fit to get Dean pregnant in spite of the diaphragm._

_Dean was quick to assure his mate that although the pregnancy was a surprise, it was far from unwanted, and actually, it was pretty close to perfect, Ziggy would be 4 years older than her new brother or sister just as Dean had been with Sam._

_They stayed in touch with Dean’s family, Sam had gone on to university and had become a lawyer. He stayed in New York City and found his own True Mate, a pretty blonde omega named Jessica. John and Mary were well, and both welcomed Castiel into the family with open arms, John after some cajoling from his wife._

_Still, Dean wished he could see them more often, but he hated making the journey by train. Little did he know, for his upcoming birthday Castiel was planning to buy him a brand new Chevrolet Series C._

_Life was wonderful, better than Castiel could ever have imagined, and when he thought back on the stoic, and frankly lonely, young man he had been at 22, before Dean entered his life, he could hardly recognize himself._

_Dean too had never expected life to be so good. Though he was a stay at home omega ever since he had gotten pregnant with Ziggy, Castiel still encouraged him to pursue his interests. He read for leisure, something he never had the time nor inclination to do when he was younger, and he discovered he loved learning, especially about new inventions and discoveries. He also enjoyed taking Ziggy out for walks, and if most of their walks took them past the new service station so he could eyeball the beautiful gleaming automobiles, well, nobody needed to know. He took up woodworking, building furniture and toys in the old barn out behind their house. Of course, his woodworking was on hold, what with a new pup on the way._

Castiel hummed into Dean’s kiss, then pulled back and gently stroked along his mate’s face, “Dean Winchester-Novak, nothing in my entire life has been easier than loving you.”

Dean responded by climbing on top of his alpha, straddling strong thighs, and kissing him again and again, eventually pulling back to breathe, then to ask with a grin, “So doc, which one do you want to be tonight, the big strong alpha, or the needy little omega?”

Dean found himself bucked right from his mate’s lap, carefully, but quick, and in seconds Castiel was on all fours on the bed, stripped of his underthings. 

“Come and get it, alpha.” Cas rasped, tossing a cheeky smirk and a wink over his shoulder. 

 

-the end-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everybody for the support, and for reading. I love this fic a lot, and loved it even when I couldn't bear the thought of it because of everything happening outside of it. So thank you for loving it too. My wifi is being especially shitty today, but I will be replying to all your very sweet comments in the coming days, I'm so so touched by the outpouring of support, thank you <3
> 
> Freud/hysteria/suffrage/the birth control movement are all only tangentially related, so you know, fiction, take it all with a grain of salt. I'm a hair stylist, not an historian.


	7. (not a chapter) An addendum in light of current events.

I haven't been a viewer of Supernatural since season 9, and though I still on occasion read Destiel fic, it's rare. Yet here this story sits, and almost every day I get an email that more of you lovely people have left kudos, and sometimes comments as well. Thank you.

In light on the ongoing and much needed conversation about rape, power, and consent, I've been thinking about this fic more and more. I said in a previous note that the age difference in this piece is a reflection of the time in which it's set, and not something I would approve of in a contemporary setting.

I don't believe that's a strong enough statement, so let me say it unequivocally, there is a massive power differential between a 24 year old man and a 16 year old boy. There is a major difference in life experiences. I do not believe in this day and age that a 16 year old can give true informed consent to an adult, I wasn't alive 100 years ago, but I'm doubtful they properly could then either.

Because of all this, I've changed the ages in the fic to have Dean and Cas closer to peers, Dean will retain his teenage petulance by starting this fic at 17, putting him near 18 at its climax, as it were, and Castiel will be 22. Cas already flew through medical school as it was, by being so darn smart, so to hell with realism. 6 years is still a substantial age difference, but with Dean close to 18 when they mate I feel much more comfortable leaving this in the world. 

Remember, informed, enthusiastic consent between age appropriate peers and/or consenting adults. It's the only way to fly.


End file.
